


The Air's Kind of Thin Up Here

by PAW_07



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: All You Need is Bread, Crack, Crazy Dragonborn, Humor, Prompts Welcome, Sane Lydia, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAW_07/pseuds/PAW_07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn has returned. Everyone else thinks its some kind of miracle or blessing. Lydia … she knows better.  Her Thane is mad. Mad I tell you!</p><p>Crack fic collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dragonborn Comes

The Dragonborn, the Dragonborn comes.

For the love of Sanity, everyone run!

…

It was a massacre. Bodies were strewn about as still warm blood pooled in ever growing little lakes of red gore.

Some would have thought it a horror show.

Not the Dragonborn.

In fact, the Dragonborn was quite proud of herself . She was even standing upon the table in the bandits den just smirking to herself as she overlooked the carnage. There had to be fifteen bandits laid about … not that Lydia was impressed.

She knew how this was going to end … and it likely wasn't raiding the bandits mead den or their food stores.

They really were getting low on bread.

Really, how many Nordic helmets did her she need?

“Lydia, we fought honorably and they died like a bunch of pansy-boys,” said the Dragonborn.

Lydia gave her Thane a dry look before she grumbled, “You started half of them on fire and then laughed, my Thane.”

The Dragonborn nodded, before confirming, “Yes, like I said. Honorably.”

A sign filled the drafty fort as something dripped in the background.

“Alright Lydia. Get out your special gloves. _It … is … time_.”

Lydia was afraid to ask, “Time for what, my Thane?”

“Time … to … strip search them,” wooted the Dragonborn.

Lydia wondered if madness was an after effect of being a Dovahkiin or if it was merely all the strange ingredients the woman dared to put in her mouth.

“Uh … what?” said Lydia, flabbergast. She understood looting some trinkets from time to time, but to strip search them?! She eyed a rather unattractive and almost greasy orc at her feet. He looked about sixty. She did not need to see his naked unclothed dead body in her dreams.

“You heard me. How else will we know we checked the bodies? Then we can put them in rather undignified corpse nakie-piles when we are done. Now, you start with the orc and his harry balls. I have a pussy to undress,” said the Dragonborn laughing as she jumped off the table and went to undress a khajiit.

Ugh. Lydia knew she should have been a towns guard. At least they wouldn't be haunted by … saggy balls.

“Lydia! One, two, get on it! We need to make this look like a death orgy!”

Lydia, reluctantly put on her gloves as she stared at the orc, his tongue flopping out of the side of his mouth, “Ugh … yes my Thane.”

She was never going to sleep again after this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just replaying through Skyrim. Never really finished it technically. XD
> 
> Anyway, this is going to be a collection of Skyrim crack fics. They will loosely be connected, but there really isn't any plot besides the Dragonborns madness. I may have other companions stop in, but Lydia for now is the main focus character because she is the probably the most sane and sarcastic about it.


	2. Waiting for What Again?

The day was hot and blistering. The hottest day of the year in fact. So it was completely incomprehensible to be running around in heavy armor or for that matter standing directly in the sun.

But here the were, doing that very thing in front of Belethor's General Good store. The Dragonborn had ran the sleazy little goods dealer down to his last septim. Where she had gotten all of those skulls anyway and why Belethor was even buying them was beyond her. Who bought skulls anyway?

Maybe it was a decor thing.

Either way, now they were just standing here … doing _absolutely_ nothing.

Shifting awkwardly, unable to stare a moment more at Jon Battle-Born and his creepy beard-ponytail. Lydia had to ask, “Ugh, my Thane, why are we-”

“Shhh Lydia,” shouted the Dragonborn. “We must be _absolutely_ still and silent here for the next _twelve hours_ to make time pass more quickly! You pee entirely too much for a minion, and I still have thirty skulls to sell!”

Lydia cringed away from the other and looked down the street longingly. Sweet, sweet bread was so close … and where was she keeping thirty skulls on her person anyway! Either way, Lydia had to ask, “Are sure, my thane? But the house is just down the stree-”

“No Lydia! _We_. _Must_. _Wait_.”

“But, my Th-”

“No!” said the Dargonborn as she put up a hand, looking kind of cross eyed. “Do not question me. I need to _selllllllllllllzzz_ … pooop.”

Yeah, that was a head injury.

Lydia felt a need to point out the painfully obvious, “Um, you are slurring, my Thane. I think you are also … bleeding from the ear.”

The Dragonborn, now bleeding from both ears, gave Lydia the kind of look that said she didn't believe her. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she merely shrugged and then agreed, “Yeah, its probably just head trauma from when that giant hit me into the air and I didn't die.”

“Yes, I remember,” growled Lydia, patience nearly dead. “It took me _two days_ to find your unconscious form and then I had to drag you back to Whiterun … while you were overburden! And then, first thing you do is wake up and go haggle with Belethor! So yes, it's probably a head injury like I have told you _three times_ today!”

The Dragonborn was giving her this questioning look like she thought Lydia was lying to her. Then, glancing around, the Dragonborn asked once again, “You don't say. Oh, hey Lydia … Why are we standing here? Did we want something from Belethor's?”

Lydia buried her head in her hands, sighing before she dared look at the other, “Yes, my thane. Yes.”

“... Oh, what did we want?”

Unable to stop herself, Lydia had to say, “We wanted to buy bread, my Thane. We wanted to buy bread.”

“Oh yeah. That sounds about right,” said the Dragonborn before she shifted, asking, “And where did I get all of these skulls by the way? Were we going to decorate your room in them?”

Lydia sighed. This day would never end.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just making fun of the wait option in the game. Good times. Good times. XD


	3. A Chilly Night

It had been nearly two days! Two days since her Thane had dragged her into this crypt full of bandits, spiders and draugr. The endless battles and stuffy thousand year rot smell weren't the thing that were getting to Lydia though. They hadn't rested in those two days and her Thane wouldn't let her even take a break.

What? She had a lot of bread recently.

Not that her Thane understood.

Did her Thane even know what a chamber pot was for?

No, no. She doubted the dragon born did.

And what of sleeping?

Did her Thane even sleep?

A yawn suddenly escaped her Thane, the other wiping the blood off her mace as she ground out, “Man, all that killing and disemboweling and making grown men cry as I started them on fire made me real tired. I thinking its time to sleep.”

Her Thane then started to take off her boots and strip some of her heavier armor as if she was going to sleep right here … in a spider and bandit infested burrow.

She had to be kidding.

Even if it was safe enough, there were only blood covered bed rolls that surrounded them. She didn't expect them to sleep in those, did she?

Clearing her throat, Lydia asked, “Um, my Thane. We are in a spider infest barrow … and there are still a dead bandit in the bedroll you are crawling in.”

Ugh. Nasty.

Half in the bed roll, the corpse's arm thrown over her waist as if they were about to snuggle, the Dragonborn grumbled, “Shhh, its the only form of affection I get around here, Lydia. Let me be. Now crawl in your corpsey-warm bedroll before it gets cold.”

Lydia looked at 'her' bedroll, a disgusted expression on her face. There was a dead, _uh re-dead_ , draugr in hers. It wasn't even warm!

Stepping away from it, Lydia tried to argue, “B-but Belethor offers to marry you every time you are in his shop!”

Huffing, snuggling deeper into her corpse-roll, the Dragonborn grumbled, “He only wants me for my money, Lydia. Now, crawl in with your corpse before it gets cold. Its a chilly night.”

“But my Th-”

“I said good night Lydia!” And with that the Dragonborn blew out the only lantern, plunging them into complete darkness.

Lydia, standing there, promised once more to never sleep again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love how you can sleep anywhere in the game, in blood covered bed rolls. And Lydia … she just sits there in the house, eating all your bread and watching you sleep. XD


	4. Let’s Take the Back Door

Lydia nearly squealed as she hit some loose shale, the heavily armored women suddenly lashing out and grabbing onto a nearby boulder like it was life line. Which, in honestly, it pretty much was. The bottom of the mountain was oh … a few hundred feet or so. There was a path, mind you, that flowed with the curves of the mountain, but that would have been too easy, wouldn’t it?

“My Thane,” said Lydia, breathless. “I-isn’t this a bit … dangerous. A fall would kill even you.”

The Dragonborn, who had been trying to _jump_ over a boulder taller than herself, stalled and turned to glare at her follower as she slowly started to slide down the mountain face. Well, Lydia presumed the other was glaring. She was wearing a mask after all … for the past two weeks in fact.

Actually, had she even taken it off to eat or drink?

… Maybe?

Did the Dragonborn even have to drink or eat? Her Thane did have this impressive cheese hoard that was slowly crawling into Lydia’s room, but … certainly she must have taken it off at least once?

No, no. She didn’t think she did. She had never seen the woman eat. How was that even possible? Did she sustain herself on potions alone? That couldn’t be healthy. Maybe that was why everyone was always telling her Thane she looked pale.

Even when she had a mask on.

Perhaps she should introduce her Thane to the joys of bread.

Still sliding slowly down the mountain, the Thane not even noticing the multiple expressions that fell over her follower’s face, she replied, “Pfff, what is adventure without a little death? We have to get into the back entrance of this Dwemer ruin after all.”

Lydia blinked, still latched onto her boulder like it was a lifeline. “Back entrance? Why don’t we take the front one?”

Her Thane waved her hand, huffing in an irritated manner, “Clairvoyance kept leading me into a tree. You know, that one tree. The tree that was mocking me? The tree I started on fire after the fifth time, and then stomped around it screaming, promising to bath my non-existence first born in its ashes. That one. So we are taking this way.”

Lydia honestly wondered if it was safer to let go now or not.

“Anyway, stop talking to me,” added her Thane. “I’m slowly sliding down the mountain because I can’t move my legs when people are talking to me. Now, lets jump up this mountain. Uggh, ugg! Come on legs. Uggh!”

Lydia, looking down the rock face, wondered if she could walk up the actual path and just meet her Thane there. She doubted the other would even notice her absence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little shiner come from 000000000000000000000Zero00000 and their writing prompts: 
> 
> -Never needing to eat.   
> -The dragonborn can climb mountains just by jumping repeatedly.


	5. Of Daggers and Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreader: Kira-Kyuu.

It was a nice day in Whiterun. At least Lydia felt it was.

Well, nothing was on fire, thankfully.

At least not yet.

Sometimes the Dragonborn seemed to get ‘run’ and ‘scream fire at people’ mixed up in her head. How? Lydia couldn't say, but she bulked it all up to head trauma, especially after her Thane took a nosedive off of that mountain she had been trying to jump up.

The shield maiden's eye twitched at the thought.

Ugh … Dwemer ruins. Never again. Please … no.

Sighing, deciding that listening to Heimskr scream about Talos for a few hours would calm her nerves, the follower didn't even get three yards out of the house when three children ran by her, screaming as they waved daggers in the air.

She stood there a moment, wondering if she should question it.

When she decided it was too much work to care and that a madman's screams sounded enlightening, a dog then walked by her with a dagger in its mouth.

The housecarl immediately sighed and placed a hand over her eyes. Part of her already knew it was too easy. Her Thane wouldn't just dismiss her and allow her to have the day off. That was too easy, especially after Lydia noticed that her Thane's five-hundred pound collection of smithing materials was missing from its usual place in a sack next to the bread stash.

So she _knew_ what was up, but she didn't want to go _there_. Her thane would just make her carry her burdens. Her five-hundred pound burdens. Yet, as she watched the market place trade daggers as currency for apples, she knew she had to go ask.

Slowly and painfully-unwilling, Lydia drug her feet to Warmaiden's smithy. The follower couldn't help but exchange a weary glance with Adrianne Avenicci. The poor woman probably had enough daggers sold to her today to make a dress and she didn't even want to think of the rest of the town's merchants.

“Um, my Thane?” said Lydia as she watched some more children run by with daggers in the air, giving off battle cries as a dog with a dagger in its mouth followed after. “Why are you giving children and … dogs … daggers?”

“Shh, Lydia. I'm concentrating,” ground out her Thane as she sharpened a dagger. “Must … learn … dwemer … metals.”

The follower raised a brow, asking, “Dwemer metals?”

“Uh, I mean town defense. Yeah, that's it,” said her Thane as one of the towns guards walked by.

“Yes … but dogs?”

“What do you have against dogs Lydia?” asked her Thane as she placed her hands on her hips, “Just because Barbas the immortal dog, pushed you off a cliff once -or like five times- accidentally while we were trying to sneak and hide from dragons, doesn't mean that all dogs are horrible. They deserve daggers like everyone else.”

Lydia couldn't help but face palm herself.

“Now if you excuse me, I have smithing skills to enhance-I mean a village to protect.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Decided we needed an update. I did two prompts for this one: 
> 
> JUCHKO's request of 'Being repeatedly pushed to my death by Barbas' and 000000000000000000000Zero00000's prompt of 'Making hundreds of iron daggers to level up blacksmithing'.


	6. Sky High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreader: Kira-Kyuu.

“Stupid talking stone latching onto me like a leech. Well, what if I don’t want to do the quest? What then? Huh? _HUH_?!” all but yelled the Dragonborn at a white sphere in her hand as she stomped up the snowy path.

Lydia, reluctantly, followed after. She personally still didn’t understand it. The Dragonborn had picked up the white stone a few days ago, claiming a voice had called it Meridia’s Beacon. At first her Thane hadn’t cared much about the mission, but a few days later she discovered that she couldn’t remove the item from her person. Not even when she was bathing or changing into a new set of corpsy-fresh armor. The Dragonborn was particularly upset about it when she was over-encumbered. Lydia personally felt her Thane was mostly upset that she couldn’t make Lydia carry it for her.

Honestly, it was probably all a delusion on her Thanes part.

“Finally, we are here,” growled the embittered Dragonborn. “I just wanted to look for some giant toes, even if they were still attached to giants. Perhaps, I could figure out why there is always only a left one and the mystery of the left foot. But nooooo, I had to come here instead.”

Lydia personally didn't understand the recent foot fetish. She honestly didn't want to. The next thing she knew though there was that a voice echoing about the expanse. “Look at my temple, lying in ruins. So much for the constancy of mortals, their crafts and their hearts. If they love me not. How can my love reach them?”

Great … daedric princes. Of course it was one. What else was it going to be?

Honestly, Lydia really didn't want to get involved in the daedric prince’s problems. It never led to good things … such as the possibility of her Thane _suddenly becoming airborn after placing some round relic down_!

“My Thane!” cried Lydia as she grabbed at the Dragonborn’s leg as she slowly rose into the air. Only, she immediately regretted it. Next thing she knew, she was holding onto her Thane’s legs as they rose into the clouds, all of Skyrim below their feet. Lydia merely screeched as she gripped her Thane’s legs tighter, dangling like a fish on a hook.

“Geeze, Lydia. Stop being so clingy,” said the Dragonborn in reply to her companion’s wails, a left shoe falling forever below. “Seriously, you are going to cut off blood circulation. You act like you’ve never been up this high … Whoa. What is that?!”

Lydia, pulling her terrified gaze from the ground, figured her Thane was talking about the white orb before them. Said orb was speaking about a necromancer and something called the Dawnbreaker and a ray of light. It seemed that her Thane was enthralled in the light’s words, but the moment later her Thane’s head trauma reared its ugly head.

“Look, Lydia! It’s Solitude! I’ve been trying to get there for days! Hey, hey, put me down over Solitude, will you? I have decided what I am doing today. I will steal everyone’s left shoe! It must be done. _NOW_ ”

The daedric prince was befuddle at the statement for a moment … I silence hanging in the air.

“But,” said the prince, her voice almost seeming to pout. “There’s a perfectly good necromancer to kill here. I was even going to give you a sword. _Also, do you want to be dropped_?”

Lydia wanted to wail 'no', but her idiot Thane spoke first.

“Pffffff. I have more than enough swords. Look my undershirt. It is made entirely out of daggers,” said the Dragonborn as she lifted up the mage's robe she was currently wearing, revealing her dagger under-armor. It might have been impressive, if it wasn't so stupid at the same time.

Lydia honestly wondered if she should just let go now. It would be a quicker, less stupid death.

For a moment the daedric prince was quiet as if she couldn’t believe what she was witnessing, “But … the necromancer.”

“Nope … need boots. Boooooooootsszzzzz.”

Then, as if suddenly realizing her chosen hero was bat-shit crazy, the daedric prince looked at the situation in an entirely new light. “Well, that’s a shame then … there are so many … uh, corpses that still have left shoes. And the necromancer so does love hoarding … corpse shoes?”

The Dragonborn, stalling in her gazing of Solitude, suddenly seemed insulted as she reared back in upset, her dagger undershirt clinking merrily. “By the left shoe! Why didn't you say so?! Hurry, let us down! _Left shoooooooeeessssssss_!”

Lydia still couldn't believe, for the next three days, that was her Thane's battle cry. Ugh, she should have let go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves. Just a quick update. I got Elder Scrolls Online and it … consumed my life for a while. So yeah, I'm alive-ish. Next chapter should be soon given its half written. This chapter's personal prompt was quest items … and the inability to get rid of them. Forever. XD


	7. Plates Aren't Up for Debate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreader: Kira Kyuu

Smack.

Smackk.

Smackkkkkkk!

Lydia’s eyes finally snapped open. She slept rarely nowadays given the _trauma_ her Thane had brought down upon her. Instead, she usually sat in her Thane’s room eating bread and just _watching_. Always watching. Wattttcchhhhhing.

But she finally succumbed to exhaustion and passed out in her room, hugging one of the many skulls in her room.

Not that the blissful rest was allowed to last.

Smack! Tap. Kr- _CLANG!_

It was the middle of the Daedric-cursed night! What was her Thane doing? Did she even want to know?!

Frowning, eyes squinting and blood-shot, the shield maiden all but stomped into her Thane’s room. She glared about the room. There was a suspiciously high pile of saber-cat pelts on the bed, but nothing else too suspicious except for the large pile of sweet rolls on the bedside stand. Well, at least there wasn’t any horrible orgy pile or something going on in here.

Krangggg!

Downstairs it was.

Frowning, caring little that she was half dressed in a cultist robe that she had made into a nightie, the woman stomped down the stairs … only to regret coming down the stairs at all.

There was her Thane, dressed in all black, the entire down stairs in disarray. Shelves had been pushed to the sides as if they were in the way and there was a pile of plates at the Dragonborn's feet … and the mad being was just tapping. Tapping a wooden plate away at the wall like she was picking a lot or something else equally deserving of that amount of concentration.

Tap. Tap. Cra-crink!

For a moment the shield maiden just stared at the Dragonborn. Just staring, staring forever in the madness of the moment, waiting for something to explode. _Anything_. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Um, my Thane, what are you doing … in the middle of the night … in all black … knocking a plate against the wall?!”

The Dragonborn leaned forward and caressed the wall for a moment, petting it as if it was a lost lover. It was salacious and nearly made the battle-maiden blush.

“I'm going to _glitch_ through the wall. Soon Lydia, I will pass through this wall passsss. I will go beyond and into the _in_. No one will be the wiser. No one will know,” purred the Dragonborn, picking her plate back up to continue her vigilant tapping, still petting the wall in an scandalous manner.

Yeah, she wasn't going to watch her Thane make out with the wall.

She'd be bitching about splinters for days to come.

Ugh, why her?

Lydia, wondering if her Thane could take a little more brain damage because she was not going to put up with that all night, was about to grab a nearby bottle of mead - _wait, not that one, grab the cheap stuff_ \- when suddenly her Thane _phased through the bloody wall!_

The horror was too grand. Too awful as the full weight of the situation hit the house-carl. If her Thane could get through any wall anywhere … the very world might end.

 _Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope, she wasn’t dealing with this!_ And that was all Lydia thought as she went straight to bed.

…

The next morning, nightmares of a voyeuristic Thane having kept her wake, Lydia watched her Thane eat three cheese wheel in rapid succession while draped in familiar looking finery. Wait? Wasn’t that the stuff she sold yesterday? Was that stuff stolen? Was that Belethor's favorite shirt she was wearing? In fact, were those all of his clothes?

Why was she wearing Belethor's clothes?

“Hey, Lydia? Do I smell manly?” asked her Thane, failing to pull off Belethor's accent. “And do you like my new clothes? They were a _steal_.”

Nope. Nope. She saw nothing. She knew nothing. Nothing at all. _NOTHING you hear her?_ Nothing happened at all. She smelled and saw nothing.

And with that, Lydia was sure she was dragged a little deeper into madness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was from MirrorFlame: The Dragonborn uses a plate to get through a wall, and Lydia is faced with the choice to leave or go search for her. I’ve never done it myself, the plate trick, but I know it can be done. Not that I would ever to such a thing. >.>


	8. Unseen Skill

Lydia knew all the town guard. Maybe not personally, but at least by name. After all, she had lived in the castle for some time, serving her jarl … until _she_ came along.

Ugh, her Thane.

Nonetheless, it was a strange occurrence to wake up (she usually slept in the day, to afraid to rest at night and wake to one or the other type of horrible insanity) to pounding on the door. She lie there a moment, staring at the skull she shared her bed with.

She named him Sumnil the Skull. She whispered to him in the dead of the night about all of her dark thoughts which borderlined on madness. He was probably the only thing keeping her sane anymore.

Too bad he was such a chatty thing.

Nonetheless, the pounding wasn't going away. So, disheveled and cranky, the housecarl stumbled down the stairs and ripped open the door with a snarl, thinking her Thane had forgotten how to open doors again just because the thing was slightly ajar.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the Thane after all. She didn't even know if the Dragonborn knew how to knock. She just barged into peoples homes all the time like she owned the place, wandering from room to room. Folks were forced to follow her around, waiting for at least a hello.

“Oh, thank the stars, Lydia. We need your help,” said one of the town guard, two of them huddled in the doorway.

“You have to do something,” said the second one, his voice almost a whine.

Great, what had her Thane done now?

Sighing, a yearning for Sumnil the Skull hitting her, she asked, “Do I want to know?”

The two guards looked at each other, one of them whispering, “Well, we don't know what she is doing either … but she's up in Dragonsreach … scaring people. And we can't ask her to leave. She's the Dragonborn. Plus, the jarl is too busy sitting to say anything. You know how he hates getting out of his chair.”

Lydia sighed again.

...

The cooks' eyes were wide, like deer watching a sabercat slowly creep toward them. Poor cooks wouldn't even blink. They just stirred slowwwwwly, afraid to make any sudden movements. And that was how it had been for the past ten minutes, her Thane crouched in the corner of the room slowwwwwly making her way around the kitchen.

No one quite knew what she was doing. No one quite wanted to know. Nonetheless, someone had to do something and it seemed the town guard had _volun-told_ Lydia she had to do it. Clearing her throat to gain her Thane's attention … unsurprisingly her Thane didn't react. If anything, she went stiller, frozen while staring at the terrified cooks.

Clearing her throat again, the housecarl called out, “My Thane?”

Nothing.

Sighing, wanting nothing more than to go home to her bread, she came forward and wearily, _oh so terrifyingly slowly_ , touched her Thane's shoulder. Her Thane nearly jumped, seemingly shocked that Lydia had seen her.

“Lydia! You saw me.”

How couldn't she? She was kneeling next to the barrels. She wasn't even hidden well. She was basically crouched in the middle of the room.

“Yes, my Thane … I saw you … everyone saw you,” said the housecarl carefully, part of her afraid to even ask, praying that this wasn't another _plate_ incident.

Her Thane stood up and dusted her pants off, frowning as she looked around. “Oh well, its going to take practice I suppose to up my sneaking. I mean, learning to become basically invisible has to be earned, right?”

...

Later that night, Lydia laid down with her skull, pulling the boney bed-mate close. She knew there would be no sleeping tonight … because there was nothing more terrifying than the thought of her Thane learning to be invisible.

Sumnil the Skull merely whispered back … stating there were worse things.

Sighing, she knew it was true.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah sneaking … my favorite skill. Once you get to a hundred you are basically invisible. XD


	9. Who Needs Shoes or Clothes in General?

Sometimes Lydia felt that Whiterun was named inaccurately. For one, it didn’t really snow that much around here and for two, with the maniac grin that had been forming slowly on the Dragonborn’s face … everyone in this village should be running. You think everyone in town would know how to run given 'Run' was in the title of their town.

But, no, that would be too easily.

The Dragonborn's smile broadened as she stepped out into the morning sun and looked at a passing villager.

Anoriath merely smiled in turn like an idiot, apparently completely oblivious to the Dragonborn's malicious intent.

Lydia sighed and wondered if she could just go back to bed. She'd get up once the village started on fire. Yes, that sounded like a wonderful plan, especially when her Thane spoke these next words, “I know what I am going to do today, Lydia … Now, take off your clothes. We don't want anyone else to feel bad or insecure.”

Face morphing into one of horror, Lydia was about to ask her what she meant by that, but the Dragonborn was suddenly kneeling behind an oblivious Anariath. Then, as if time had stalled while she did it, the elf's clothes were all gone. The elf walking down the road without missing a beat, seeming oblivious to the breeze or the fact that he was now barefoot.

“What the ...”

Turning back to the follower, the Dragonborn looked her houscarl up and down with a look of disapproval. “Lydia hurry up and get with the undressy. Then we can have a town-wide nakey party.”

Lydia … face palmed.

…

Kemuta's feet ached and his back twinged. It had been a long fucking journey. If Whiterun turned out to be another dead end for their bounty, he was going to find the nearest inn, get drunk, and fuck the first thing with legs that showed any interest: elf, orc or otherwise.

The gates opening, the man half surprised he was able to walk in with three obvious Alik'r soldiers, didn't know if he should laugh, leave, or thank the gods. Everyone, every _single_ person he could see including the town guard, was stripped to their skivvies. Well, except for a strange woman in a horned helm that was sneaking about. Nonetheless, everyone except her was just walking around like this was normal, like they didn't know they were nearly naked.

Looking at the other three men that had followed him in, regardless if they found the Redguard woman or not, he smiled. “I think I'm going to like this town.”

And quicker than should have been decent, all four Alik'r men were starting to undress … more than a little excited for the strange oddity in a strange town.

Lydia merely watched the four men and shook her head, following after her Thane to carry her extra load: all the clothes in town apparently.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was from MirrorFlame. Pick-pocketing people of their clothing without them noticing. Kemuta just threw himself right in there. Good times. Good times. XD


	10. Barrels of Fun

“Come, Lydia. Now that I own Vlindrell Hall, I need to fill it full of useless shit.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. She was absolutely sure her Thane was a hoarder. No, she wasn’t just sure. It was a _fact_. For one, her Thane had started to go around collecting property like it was going out of style. How many houses did one person need? Maybe if she was going to take on a husband at each residence, nothing showed wealth like some good old fashion polygamy, but it hardly seemed worth the effort. Men of Skyrim always seemed to get disgustingly sweet once you married them. They started calling you dear and sweety and other nauseatingly loving phrases. You married a man for how well he could headbutt a bear, not how well he kept the house in order … unless he was a squishy mage. Bunch of milk drinkers … but they sure did know what to do with their hands.

Mmm, Marcurio. What magical fingers he had.

“What did you say?” said the Dragonborn.

“Hmm, what? Nothing. Nothing, my Thane. Just thinking of bread,” said Lydia, by default.

“Well, good. Now help me go through these barrels on the street,” said her Thane, seeming to have no regard if that was someone’s property or not. Lydia wondered for a moment if she should flag down one of town guards just to get a night off from Thane-sitting when suddenly the local drunkard wandered in front of them … just as her Thane was about to rummage through a barrel. Not, that her Thane seemed to notice a difference. She just started to dig into the beggar’s pockets like it was nothing, molesting the old drunkard as her hands wandered over his lanky body.

Blinking, as if realizing she was searching a person and not a barrel, the Dragonborn pulled away, “Wooh, sorry about that. I thought it was weird that a barrel was wearing rags.”

Degaine, the beggar, was insulted but barely sober enough to even stand. “W-what? Why were you digging through my s-stuff … while I was wearing it? I’ll kill yah.”

The dragonborn put up her hands, “Sorry, sorry. I thought you were a barrel. You just walked by at a bad time, but don’t worry. I don’t want anything off of you. Everything you have is worthless … just like you. Now, if you excuse me, I have other barrels to meet, run my hands along as I memorize their every curve and groove, and then press myself deep into their dark, tight recesses until I find the sweetest of treasures.”

For a moment, Degaine seemed confused like he didn’t know if he should be insulted or sexually aroused. Lydia, personally, didn’t know either. She just knew that she didn’t want to be here. She already had enough trouble sleeping. And now she had to question what her Thane did to the barrels in the house when she wasn’t watching.

“Uh, yes, my Thane … barrels. I think I saw some up that way,” said Lydia, just wanting to be anywhere but here.

Her Thane merely purred like a lecher and wandered away, leaving Lydia with the drunk old beggar standing in the street.

Not knowing what else to do, Lydia turned to the man and gave the beggar a septim for his silence. Yet, when she as just about to walk away, the drunkard grumbled, “Bring me more gold next time.”

Lydia, brow twitching, wanted to walk away. Really, she did, but what was waiting for her around that corner anyway? Her Thane and a barrel. Yeah, she was getting arrested tonight. At least there weren’t any barrels in prison. So, instead, she did the nord thing and punched him square in the face.

“Huh, nice,” said her Thane around the corner, doing gods knows what. “I got the gift of charity somehow … and also a bounty. Hmm, I can work with this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was accidentally searching people. It must be really rude, and awkward. Who knows the last time that beggar bathed. XD


End file.
